Abide
by teethlikedog
Summary: The rule, and when to break it. [MarquisRichard]


Slash masquerading as a character piece. I'm shameless, I know. "It's more of a guideline, really" blatantly thieved from Terry Pratchett.

_**Abide**_

There is one fundamental rule: never do anything unless there's a profit in it.

This isn't some sort of universal precept, of course. It's a personal rule of the Marquis' own invention, and one in which he puts a great deal of stock. It has served him long and well, and ensured that he always comes out ahead of the game.

Well, almost always.

Breaks even, at the very least, which means that he comes out of situations with his skin still intact. He has insurance, of course, in the form of a small box, but he has only needed that once.

The rule is applicable to every situation, particularly in a life like the Marquis' (which involves a great deal of wheeling and an almost equal proportion of dealing) and in a place like London Below, where barter is the primary currency and the phrase "cut-throat negotiations" is only metaphorical half of the time. When it comes to getting along in life, and keeping a life to get along _in_, the rule is extremely useful. Vital, one might say, if one were fond of bad puns.

It covers a whole range of contingencies, too. It tells you, for example, never to even enter negotiations unless the other party either (a) has something you want, (b) is asking something that's worth doing for the sake of the profit involved, or (c) is desperate enough to agree to almost any terms. It's always best if you can persuade someone to "owe you a favour"; those innocuous-seeming words can be a powerful lever, in the right hands. And the Marquis de Carabas is an expert when it comes to using that particular tool.

Of course, all the favours and rewards in the world won't benefit you if you're dead (those cut-throat negotiations again), so the rule always balances profit against risk, with a considerable bias in favour of being alive at the end of things.

The only time this delicate equilibrium doesn't hold is when you're the one who owes the favour. That's when things start to get dangerous, because a debt in someone else's hands - even those of a harmless looking girl - is basically a large stick that can be used to browbeat you into doing things you'd _really_ rather not. Like confronting murderers, monsters and maniac angels, for example. That's not a pleasant bind to be in, and the rule dictates that you get out of it as quickly as possible, and get back to that comfortable place where _you _hold all the IOU's.

Another important aspect of the rule is that you never - _never_ - get Involved with other people in any way. Once you get Involved, then you start getting Attached, and before you know it you're doing things that are of absolutely no benefit to you whatsoever. And that, of course, goes against the most basic principle of the rule.

Taking all this into account, the Marquis has no idea why he's still hanging around here. His debt to Lord Portico is long paid - he is, in fact, several favours in credit with the man's daughter - and there's nothing particularly interesting or profitable in the immediate area. It _is_ quite amusing to watch the upworlder blunder from disaster to disaster as he attempts to adjust to life Below. Downright hilarious, sometimes. But entertainment isn't profit, and the Marquis knows that he's long past due to get the hell out of here; discreetly, if possible, because he's never been fond of longwinded goodbyes.

Somehow, though, he keeps putting it off. He has the feeling that it might have something to do with getting Attached, and something to do with the ridiculously earnest hazel eyes of certain idiotic upworlders, and absolutely nothing to do with anything profitable - at least, not in the conventional sense.

He's not certain where the rule stands on the subject of idiotic upworlders with ridiculously earnest hazel eyes, but he knows that it takes a very dim view of getting Attached in any way, shape or form.

But then again, since when has the Marquis de Carabas let himself be blindly governed by any law, even one of his own devising? It's not as if the rule is completely hard-and-fast, anyway. More of a guideline, really, when you get right down to it.

And the upworlder does have _very _pretty eyes.


End file.
